Love We Lost and Found Along the Way
by geek-it-out
Summary: She closes her eyes and takes a deep shuttering breath and attempts to prevent the tears that are pooling in the corners of her eyes from falling. She looks away and turns her back on the only family she's ever known - her mother, Bellamy, Raven, Octavia - the people who used to know her but no longer do.
1. Pardon Me

_I'm one step from a breakdown, two steps from being safe_

 _Just try to see this through_

 _I'm three steps from this nightmare and four steps from the door_

 _The rest is up to you_

 _Pardon me while I just turn my back and walk away_

 _Pardon me if I can't listen to the things you say_

 _Pardon me if I can't fake it while you still believe_

 _Pardon me_

 _I'm one step from forgiveness and two steps from my grave_

 _We're all just three steps from redemption, four from the Devil's door_

 _On a path that leads to you_

 _Pardon me while I just turn my back and walk away_

 _Pardon me if I can't listen to the things you say_

 _Pardon me if I can't fake it while you still believe_

 _Pardon me_

 _Pardon me while I just turn my back and walk away_

 _Pardon me if I can't listen to the things you say_

 _Pardon me if I can't fake it while you still believe_

 _Pardon me_

 _I'm two steps from salvation but I'm only taking one_

 _Pardon me_

* * *

The blonde looks over her shoulder one last time at the place that has always been her home. She briefly feels like she is abandoning them but it quickly turns into resentment as her eyes roam over the backs of her friends. Her friends that she just sacrificed nearly four hundred people for. Bile rises in her throat and she forces it back down. None of them understand what she's been through, the decisions she's had to make; not even Bellamy who has quickly become like a brother to her. Her mother turns toward her and she can see the ever-present look of disgust mixed with disappointment and pity. She knows she deserves it for what happened at TonDC but it hurts nonetheless. Jasper would likely never forgive her for the decision to irradiate level five at Mount Weather that killed everyone inside and she doesn't blame him. She hates herself too. She hates that there is so much blood on her hands. First, Atom. She had stumbled upon the search party looking for him, Bellamy above him holding a knife and looking at her desperately but there was no way to save him. She took the knife from Bellamy and told Atom that she would help him so she carefully cut his jugular and hummed to him as he slowly slipped away in her arms. Caliban was next, she used his bad knee to her advantage and covered his mouth as he drowned in his own blood after she slit his throat. It had been ruthless but necessary. Then, there was Finn. Her sweet, sweet Finn who had turned into something that no one had predicted or recognized. Thinking of him still hurt so much. It had been her own hand that had plunged the knife into his chest. His last words still ringing in her ear. _Thanks Princess._ She closes her eyes and takes a deep shuttering breath and attempts to prevent the tears that are pooling in the corners of her eyes from falling. She looks away and turns her back on the only family she's ever known – her mother, Bellamy, Raven, Octavia – the people who used to know her but no longer do.

Her feet carry her away from the Ark and into the dense forest. She doesn't know where she is going or where she might end up and she isn't sure that she cares anyway. All she knows is she can't stay in a place where she is constantly reminded of what she was forced to do to save her people. She crosses her arms around her midsection and continues to walk until she can't anymore. When she looks up, she finds herself in front of the dropship, the first place they called home on this rough planet. The ground surrounding it is scorched and littered with skeletons of what remains of the Grounders she burned alive. She had no choice, she knows that, she had to protect everyone. It doesn't make it easier for her to see the carnage left behind.

She pushes the curtain aside hoping to find some supplies she can use that were left behind when the Mountain Men came. She rummages through piles of boxes and manages to find a few rounds of ammunition but there is no telling how much of it still works. She remembers Raven saying something about the rounds misfiring and she decides to leave them instead of taking the chance of injuring herself. The blonde fashions a pack out of some of the leftover parachute and cords. In it, she places a canteen for water, what is left of the ration packs minus the bad nuts that make you hallucinate, and blankets. She spends the night in one of the few hammocks still hanging staring at the ceiling unable to sleep. She uses her trench coat to keep the chill out as her gun rests on her stomach and she tries but fails to keep the visions of those whose lives she's taken from taking over her thoughts. Eventually, she falls into a restless sleep because she can no longer keep her eyes open.

She wakes at first light with the images of Finn assaulting her eyelids. She sees him almost constantly, the only time she hadn't was when she was with the Commander. There was always a sense of understanding, a kind of kinship she had felt with the other leader. Clarke shakes her head, that no longer matters because Lexa betrayed her. She sits up gingerly so she doesn't end up on the cold hard floor and pulls her trench coat back on. The material is heavy and fortified in the right areas. Its dirty and frayed, the pauldrons have seen better days, but the jacket is both warm and provides an extra layer of protection. It makes her look more like a Grounder but right now she needs that if she's going to be in the forest alone. She needs to look like she can take care of herself.

Leaving the dropship seems to lift a weight off her shoulders she hadn't known she was carrying but the relief is short lived as she comes upon the graveyard they built just hours after arriving the first day. Clarke finds herself wishing that Wells was still here. He would understand her choices. He wouldn't judge her for them. She misses him and she spent so much time hating him because she thought that it was his fault her father was spaced when it had been her mother all along. She picks a flower nearby and sets it by his marker saying a silent goodbye as tears flow from her eyes. She continues to the _art supply store_ Finn had found shortly after their arrival. Even though it pains her, she goes inside knowing that there are supplies there. The smell threatens to make her throw up but she manages to refrain by breathing through her mouth. She finds a knife and the two-headed deer Finn made for her on the small table next to the dead Grounder. She only takes the knife with her. Even though it means shelter, she can't bring herself to stay there.

She checks her location once she emerges from the shelter. Mount Weather is about a four-hour hike from her current location and while she has no desire to ever step foot in that place again, she knows there are supplies like food and extra clothes. More importantly, there are weapons. She moves on autopilot not bothering to take in her surroundings. She knows the way and most of the Grounders have continued to steer clear of the mountain out of fear. She makes it just before dark. The outer door is still open, just as they left it a few days ago. She never thought she would be back here, but then again, there were many things she thought she would never do, like killing someone. She had been studying to be a doctor on the Ark, to follow in her mother's footsteps, to be a healer. But the only thing she feels like the longer she is on Earth is a coldblooded killer. Dante and all his people in the mountain that she currently stands outside are proof of that.

She enters the mountain feeling a sense of dread but forces herself to look for anything that will aid in her survival. Walking among the bodies in the mess hall, she wonders not for the first time, how Lexa can do it. How she can go on knowing how much blood is on her hands. Clarke finds it hard to think about let alone see it as she is now. Their bodies are bloodied and covered in sores, some open and oozing while others look scabbed over. The smell is rancid. Dead body odor mixes with the scent of foul excrement and urine. She gags and loses what little she managed to eat for breakfast during her walk here. It takes a while for her to stop heaving but she eventually wipes her mouth and moves on.

She goes to the kitchen, it's almost like the markets back on the Ark. There are things she recognizes and things she doesn't. She fills her pack with anything that is easy to carry and doesn't weigh much; raw fruits and vegetables, dried meat, nuts and cheese, even some bread. She is amazed at their level of engineering, it almost rivals that of the Ark.

Clarke raids the medical supplies next; taking bandages, antiseptic, and pain pills. You never know what you'll need out in the middle of nowhere. She feels the scab on her arm itch and realizes that she has been her far longer than she wants or needs to be. She exits the same way she got in not wanting to see any more bodies than necessary. Her feet take her down the side of the mountain and she notes that it's the same path Lexa took the night she betrayed her when she had to watch the other girl walk away.

 _The Commander walks towards Clarke with one of the mountain men, Emerson, at her side. Clarke is confused as to why Lexa has given the order for her people to stand down and looks to her expectantly. The blonde can already see the regret seeping into the brunette's features but it is quickly masked behind hard eyes. Clarke's heart beats within her chest, ramming against her ribs and sternum with a force she's never felt. She's afraid._

 _"What is this?" she asks, unsure if she really wants to know the answer._

 _Someone behind her yells. "Look! They're coming out!" Both of them turn their gaze toward the door that now hangs open. Clarke is stunned._

 _"They're surrendering?" she turns to Lexa searching her face._

 _Emerson's face turns into a smug smile. "Not quite," he says and then looks to the Commander._

 _Clarke's stomach drops and she feels sick. She watches the frown form at Lexa's mouth and her eyes convey an apology the blonde wishes she wasn't seeing. "What did you do?" it comes out in a harsh whisper in an almost unbelieving tone as her voice shakes._

 _"What you would have done," is the simple reply. "Saved my people."_

 _A quiet rage takes over Clarke as she asks Lexa where her people are and she replies that she's sorry but they weren't part of the deal. The blonde stares at the girl she trusted tears threatening to fall as she looks away. She won't let Lexa see her cry. She hears rather than sees her cut the bindings on Emerson._

 _"You made the right choice Commander," he tells her and Clarke balls her hands into a fist to keep from strangling the man right here and now._

 _She looks back to Lexa and as he walks away Lincoln comes to stand beside her. He wants to know what they're doing and why they aren't attacking. Clarke replies in a tone of disgust that Lexa made a deal. "What about the prisoners from the Ark?" he asks looking to his Heda._

 _"They'll all be killed," Clarke replies for her. "But you don't care about that, do you?" Pain and anger enters her voice. The accusation is clear._

 _"I do care, Clarke. But I made this choice with my head and not my heart," Lexa says forcefully. The blonde is unsure who she is trying to convince in this situation. "The duty to protect my people comes first."_

 _"Please don't do this," the blonde pleads with her._

 _"I'm sorry, Clarke."_

 _Lincoln steps in front of her. "Commander, not like this! Let us fight!"_

 _"No! The deal is done." she states and they hear the grinding of the door shutting the rest of the Sky People inside. She orders them to sound the retreat._

 _"They'll be slaughtered! Let me help them!"_

 _Clarke feels a swell of pride and gratitude for the man beside her. Contempt fills her as the Grounder is knocked unconscious and she gazes at the Commander. She is in utter disbelief as Lexa says, "May we meet again."_

Clarke feels her chest tighten painfully. Sadness for losing their chance at whatever was happening between them starts to creep up on her and she tamps it back down swallowing hard at the lump in her throat. Anything they could have shared was gone the minute Lexa had turned her back on her. It is at the same door she was betrayed that she finds a bow with a quiver of arrows that were left behind. She picks them up and straps them over her back before setting off again.


	2. Haunted

_Come here, pretty please_

 _Can you tell me where I am_

 _You, won't you say something_

 _I need to get my bearings, I'm lost_

 _And the shadows keep changing_

 _And I'm haunted by the lives that I have loved_

 _And actions I have hated, I'm haunted_

 _By the lives that wove the web inside my haunted head_

* * *

Clarke sighs as she digs through her pack and takes out the last ration. She has been wandering the woods for days but hasn't come across a village or anything she recognizes from Earth Skills as edible. She shakes her head. Why would she? Everything is different than how they thought it was; the people, the animals, why not the vegetation too? She rips into the ration and eats it slowly trying to make it last. The sun is starting to go down. She needs to find shelter. Azure eyes scan the surroundings for a cave or outcropping she can use. She stumbles and leans against a tree. She is tired, cold, and hungry. Most of her supplies ran out two days ago leaving her extremely weak and desperate.

The next step she takes is unsteady and she falters. The thud from her knees hitting the hard Earth reverberates through her entire body. Her vision blurs as her breath picks up. She starts to hyperventilate, panic setting in as she realizes that none of her people will find her. She may get lucky and a compassionate person will happen upon her. But as she falls to the ground, unable to continue to hold herself up, she snorts with derision. She doesn't deserve for someone kind to find her. She deserves to die. Her vision comes and goes as the cold begins to set in the sun disappears behind the trees. The last thing she sees is a lone figure standing above her but she no longer has the strength to keep her eyes open.

She is in a forest very different from the one she's grown used to. This one is dark, lifeless, covered in ash and set aflame. Her clothes are different than what she remembers wearing. Instead, she is wearing a standard issue medical uniform. Her hands are soft, without the roughness that she has grown accustomed to after adapting to the ground. She hears her name in the distance and recognizes the voice immediately. "Dad!" she yells and looks around. She doesn't see him. She hears it again and again. Her feet move of their own accord running in the direction she thinks his voice is coming from but finds she has gone in a circle instead appearing exactly where she started. "I love you, Clarke," she hears his voice shake and she screams. She sees the air lock as her eyes close. She is being held back as they take him from her. Clarke is hanging on with her fingertips. She can't let go. She won't. But she does and he's in the tiny box that is the only thing that separate him from space. She is released when the doors hiss shut. She runs into the door and with her palms pressed to the glass as she cries.

She opens her eyes no longer hearing his voice. Fire closes in on her from all directions. She can feel the heat as it gets closer. It crawls up her pants and she screams in pain as it engulfs her. Blackness turns to light as the scene before her changes. It's the same forest but this time bodies liter the ground. They're all around her as she turns, some Grounders others from the mountain. She spins in one spot and feels tears stream down her face. She sees Maya, Fox, Charlotte, Atom and many others; many are children. "No!" she screams as she falls harshly to the ground. The fires continue to burn, the stench of rotting decaying singed flesh overwhelming. She turns to her side and heaves. She doesn't stop heaving until the smell is gone.

When she looks, up the bodies are gone and Wells is standing before her. Her best friend that she desperately misses. He is looking at her, his gaze filled with a hatred she has never seen before. "I'm dead and it's your fault!" he shouts at her.

"No!" she shakes her head.

"Yes, Clarke. You should have stopped her. You knew she was dangerous!"

"She was just a girl!" Clarke yells sobbing. How was she supposed to know what Bellamy had said to her? How was she supposed to know that the girl would kill him?

"You should have known!" his voice rings in her ears over and over until she covers them and screams to drown him out.

She's still on her knees, shaking slightly as she pulls her hands away testing the sounds. Wells is gone and she breathes a little easier. She stands and notes that she's wearing the clothes from the dropship. Her hands are covered in blood. She shakes her head. "No. No." It can't be she thinks internally and shakes her head. "No, no, no, no!" The scene has changed since she looked down at her blood covered hands. She is standing on the field between the Ark and the Commander, Finn is tied to a post, and a knife is in her hand. He looks at her with an unreadable expression and her heart stops. She goes to him just as she had that night.

"You let them take me!" his beautiful face turns into an ugly snarl.

She shakes her head crying. "No, I tried," she says weakly. He says nothing. "I tried!"

"Not hard enough!" he yells. "You killed me!"

She sobs, her entire body shaking. "They would have tortured you!" she screams blue eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I couldn't," she shakes her head unable to finish. She couldn't watch that. She couldn't let Raven or any of their friends watch that.

"It's all about you, isn't it, princess?" he says the nickname full of anger and she feels her chest squeeze painfully.

Clarke wakes screaming and scrambles to her feet with both hands positioned in front of her defensively. Her wild eyes search her surroundings and land on a woman sitting next to the fire on a log. "Who are you?" she asks holding her distance.

"My name is Niylah, I found you outside my village a few days ago. You burned with fever. I have stayed with you to ensure you heal."

"You're a healer?" Clarke wonders and puts her hands down.

"No," the woman shakes her head. "I am a trader. What is your name?"

"Clarke."

"You have run out of supplies." It isn't a question but Clarke nods in the affirmative anyway. "I will teach you to hunt and what plants can be eaten or useful. Do you have anything of value to trade for these skills?" Clarke checks her bag. She doesn't have much; a wrist band from the Ark, a few bandages, her gun and what little ammunition she has left, and the bow and arrows she found. She lost her knife days ago. She shakes her head only holding out the wrist band. "I will still teach you, you will owe me a debt. You will pay it before you leave or I will kill you."

Her words are not so much a threat as they are a promise but Clarke swallows her fear. She needs to learn more skills if she has any hope of surviving.

* * *

A/N: I apologize that it's so short, but I haven't gotten around to editing the rest and wanted to post something.


	3. Chapter 3

Clarke grunts and curses under her breath as she lands hard on her back. They've been at this for days and she's only marginally gotten better at defending herself. Quickly, the sky and trees are gone from her vision and she finds herself staring up at striking dark eyes of the trader that found her in the woods almost a week ago. "Again," the taller blonde demands and pushes herself off Clarke. The now redheaded Clarke pulls her knees towards her and pushes off the ground with her hands using her strong thigh muscles to stand. She brushes her hands off and gets back into the stance Niylah showed her a few days ago. Minutes later, she is tripping backwards and landing on her back once more with a slight wince of pain. "Come, that is enough," the lithe blonde sighs. They walk together towards the small stream behind the village. Clarke removes her clothes and hisses as the cold-water rushes over her heated skin. It is a welcomed relief and she hums her satisfaction. "You did well today," Nylah's slightly gravelly voice breaks through her subconscious.

The smaller woman smiles at the trader wryly. "I'm awful," she's beginning to think she should have stuck with the gun.

"You are learning," her companion reminds her. "We train for our entire lives for the job we are meant to do."

Clarke sighs and starts to wash the grime off her skin. "I know," she nods. It was the same on the Ark; there just wasn't a need to fight for your life.

"You must have some natural talents, no?" the Trikru trader asks.

"I was training to become a healer," Clarke responds robotically. "I'd rather not talk about it," she adds at the questioning look in her companion's eyes.

"Ah, the nightmares," Niylah nods in understanding. Clarke nods her head confirming but stops talking after that.

They finish washing and carry their dirty clothes towards the shelter. It is a small cave that Nylah helped her find after the first night they met. The outcropping of vines over hanging the entrance hides it from even a keen eye. Yesterday, they built a small rock wall on the other side to block the wind and reflect the heat from the fire. The trader stocked the small space with dried meats, bread, and blankets. Clarke literally owes the woman her life.

It is also a convenient meeting place for them to train away from prying and judging eyes. Niylah starts the fire while Clarke checks their traps. It is the first thing the trader had shown her. Two rabbits were caught in her snare. Well, she is good at setting traps at least. She sighs. She takes the game over to the other woman and hands her one of the rabbits. The trader hands her a small knife. "Hold it like this," she takes the creature by the back legs. "Then, twist like this," she gathers a bunch of skin and twists it until the skin breaks. "And pull," she says yanking the skin off one leg.

Clarke makes a face of disgust but follows the instruction. She feels bad for the rabbit. She hates that she must take its life to support her own. She vows then, to only ever take what she needs to survive and use everything she can either for weapons or bait if she cannot consume it. Niylah shows her the remaining steps and how to prepare the meat to eat and they roast it over the fire.

The woman leaves at dusk with a boar to take back to her village they caught earlier in the day. In truth, the trader did most of the work. Clarke only nicked the ear with the arrow she let loose. She needs a lot more practice before she can even begin to think of hunting on her own. She sighs and tries to get comfortable for the night. She wonders, not for the first time, what her friends are doing. She wonders if they hate her. They should. She does. Tears leak from the sides of her eyes and down her cheeks as she stares up at the ceiling of the cave. She wonders if the guilt of leaving them behind, of killing so many people, of disappointing her mother will ever cease. She fears it never will. She fears it will consume her; eat her alive.

Her eyes follow the shadows and light against the ceiling as the flame flickers. Her mind wanders to the strong brunette Commander. Lexa, she sighs. Her closest thing to a confidant. Someone who had understood her, the decisions she made, and the constant moral struggles she faced. Their bond had promise. She still feels the ever-present tugging of her heart pulling them closer. It begs for her to give in, to allow herself to fall even deeper than she already has for the woman who would betray her to save her own people each and every time. How could she be with someone who would sacrifice her so easily? If she expects an easy answer, it doesn't come. She suspects it never will and falls into a fitful sleep.

Clarke waits in the tree patiently as the panther stalks the bait she left, a poor defenseless rabbit. The black beast crouches low, its body sliding along the ground hardly making a sound. It pounces on the small animal and Clarke uses its distraction against it as she gracefully falls from the tree branch and on to the panther's back. The knife slides into the space between its shoulders but it isn't enough to subdue it completely. The predator shakes its hunter from its back. The knife is dislodged as Clarke's back hits the dirt. The hunter becomes the hunted and she barely has time to get the knife up before the beast jumps at her. The knife slides into its chest but not before its claws puncture her left shoulder and scrape along the pale skin of her neck. She ends up on the ground with the animal on top of her and manages to slide from under it. She eyes her prize with determination and pride as she takes the knife and pierces its neck. "Yu gonplei ste odon," (your fight is over) she says as the blood begins to leak out from the wound. She uses the rope from her trap to hang the beast from the branch above and allows the rest of the blood to drain from the beast.

She uses the time waiting for the blood to drain to reapply the berries to her hair giving it a faint reddish tint. Niylah suggested she do so after a visit from some bounty hunters looking for her only a few days after she had been in the area; looking for Wanheda. This is what the Grounders now call her; Wanheda, the Commander of Death. It doesn't matter that she is a sky person, all that matters is that she's killed many people. More than she ever imagined.

After her hair is done, she checks the beast. She shakes it to make sure there is no longer any blood flowing and cuts it down. She heaves the panther onto her back and begins the long walk back to Niylah's village. Clarke makes it easily and is no longer surprised by the fact. Her body has gone through many changes, one of these changes are in the way her muscles are composed. She is toned, muscles hardened from the exertion of hunting and trapping. She is strong and she likes it. She can run long distances without being winded and she has learned many skills in the short few weeks she has spent with her blonde friend. She waits for Niylah's father to leave before entering the trader's hut. He visits daily around the same time and Clarke knows to avoid the village elder.

"Os fragon," the blonde greets Clarke with a smile.

"Mochof, jos taim prepon," Clarke says and steps up to the table to look at some of the wares sitting on it.

"Otaim yu kom op jos pas taim ai nontu gonot. Os manaplei," Niylah smiles and drags the panther towards the back.

"Ai ste hos raun, you," the hunter reminds her.

The trader laughs and nods. "Ait. Kom otaim," she smiles disappearing behind the curtains. She reappears quickly. "Steiks-de kom yu las fragon," she says putting the meat on the table. "Ge fleiva op en ge son op. Thau osir," she smiles.

Clarke smiles back and Niylah hands her a cup. "Chit daun bilaik?" the huntress asks.

"Souda. Kos yu na ste set raun. Ai na hos op hashta ostof."

Clarke takes the drink offered and sips it while Niylah moves around gathering the supplies for her. The woman returns to her and asks if she has decided on anything else. "I do not need anything else," the former blonde assures her.

"Ai don tel yu op. Sad som in," Niylah gestures to the wall. "I owe you more than that and your debt is paid many times over by now," the blonde looks at her intently and Clarke finds herself drawn to the woman. She is honest and has saved her more times than the huntress can count.

The door slams open shocking both of them and Clarke is first to turn away to peruse the wares until the other person leaves. The exchange is short. The man is looking for someone, presumably Clarke or rather Wanheda. Niylah sends him on his way quickly giving him false information on her whereabouts. The former blonde watches him leave while pretending to look at something that interests her. She walks around to where the blonde is standing wondering what she gains by helping her. "It would be best to wait. Here, finish your drink," the trader says.

"Why put yourself at risk for me? You have saved me more than once," Clarke asks.

"My mother was taken by the mountain. You ended the reaping," she says softly. Clarke understands then, that while many see her as a threat there are also some that see her as a savior. She moves to hug the woman startling her slightly but eventually Niylah wraps her arms around her as well. The light brush of her arm causes Clarke to hiss and pull away. "What's wrong?"

"The panther's claws," she sighs and pulls at the covering on her neck.

"They are but scratches," the blonde says inspecting her neck.

"My shoulder as well," Clarke says peeling the cloth from the wound.

Upon seeing the bloodied shoulder, the trader motions for her to follow. "Come, I will clean it for you," Niylah leads her to the back through a few rooms until they reach one with a bed. "Sit."

Clarke starts to unbutton her coat while the trader gets clean water and rags. She manages to shrug it off but cannot remove the shirt on her own. Niylah stops her before she hurts herself and shifts so that her hands are under Clarke's shirt. They hover on her taught stomach and inch the material up. The blonde's brown eyes are locked on hers as her fingertips ghost across her skin softly. Clarke doesn't deny the attraction is strong but refrains from slanting her lips over the shorter woman's. She deserves more than the broken shell the she has become. Niylah lifts the material overhead gently and then forces her to sit.

"The cat got it worse," the blonde jokes and begins cleaning the wound on her neck first. It only takes a few swipes of the cloth and a small bandage with a poultice to help keep the infection away. The wound on her back takes more time and care. She is gentle as she runs the cloth over the punctures and gashes. Her fingertips of their other hand skin along smooth skin. "No kill marks." Clarke surmises the other woman had probably not looked close enough while they were training and hunting together.

Clarke looks over her injured shoulder briefly. "My back's not big enough," she replies with a strain in her voice.

Niylah continues to clean the wound carefully. "Tell me about the mountain?" she asks. Clarke can tell she has shifted closer so that she may speak softer and still be heard.

Clarke closes her eyes and shakes her head before replying. "There's nothing to tell. I did what I had to do, that's all."

"That's all? You killed our greatest enemy," Niylah shook her head. "You wiped them out by yourself," shock colors her voice.

Clarke turns to face her wincing as her shoulder muscle protests the quick movement. "Niylah, would you mind not talking?" she asks. This isn't something she wants to discuss with anyone. She's not sure she can without breaking down. The blonde nearly pulls away but Clarke suddenly doesn't want or can't be alone and stops her. "No," her eyes search the blonde's face hoping the want is still there.

She takes the hand that so very carefully tended her wound and places it on her chest just above her breast. Niylah leans forward and Clarke closes the gap between them. Their kiss is full of hunger and need, all teeth and tongue as the blonde falls back and Clarke straddles her hips. Deft and sure hands remove their clothing until they are both bare. Lips, teeth, and tongue continue to meld together roughly. Still on top, Clarke nips and sucks a path toward Niylah's neck as her hands move toward her center. Her walls are already clenching almost painfully and as her fingers slide through the blonde's wetness she realizes they both want and need this. Her fingers slide into Niylah easily and her thumb finds the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. It doesn't take long for the blonde to mumble her name and claw at her back as she falls over the edge.

Both of them are breathing heavily and the blonde lifts her thigh creating a delightful friction that Clarke needs more of. The hands on her hips grip slightly tighter and the former blonde finds herself on her back with lips mashed against hers. The kiss is heated and barely lasts before Niylah is nipping her way down Clarke's body. Then, the woman is between her legs doing deliciously naughty things with her mouth and she feels close already. One hand moves to the blonde's hair urging her on while the other comes up to her breast. Her mouth opens and soft gasps leave her lips. Clarke's mouth falls open in a silent cry as she feels her orgasm quake through her.

Yu gonplei ste odon - your fight is over

Os fragon - good kill

Mochof, jos taim prepon - thank you, the usual supplies

Otaim yu kom op jos pas taim ai nontu gonot. Os manaplei - You always come right after my father leaves. Good timing

Ai ste hos raun, you - I'm in a hurry

Ait. Kom otaim - right. As always

Steiks-de kom yu las fragon - meat from your last kill

Ge fleiva op en ge son op. Thau osir - salted and dried. Minus our share

Chit daun bilaik? - What's that?

Souda. Kos yu na ste set raun. Ai na hos op hashta ostof. - A drink. For while you wait. I will be quick with the rest

Ai don tel yu op. Sad som in - I told you. Pick something


	4. Chapter 4

Clarke watches Niylah sleep with worry. The woman means something to her even if she isn't in love with her. The blonde found her at her weakest and has saved her in more ways than the hunter can even count. She owes her the decency of still being in her bed when she wakes but Clarke can't help the worry she feels of possibly putting her life in danger if she does stay. Rough nimble fingers slide through misshapen braids along the woman's back. Yes, Clarke cares for her. It is why she makes the decision to leave. She knows there isn't enough she can say to convey her thanks or soothe the hurt the woman is sure to feel when she wakes and Clarke isn't there but she knows this is for the best.

She slips from the bed feeling guilty as she does. The furs shift and expose a tanned tattooed back and Clarke moves the furs back up her body to ward away the chill of the morning. She doesn't make it further than pulling her pants over her hips before Niylah is awake and looking at her with a question burning in her eyes. "I'm sorry," Clarke says softly and the blonde gives her a crisp nod. Her eyes shine brightly in the morning light as the hunter pulls her shirt and jacket on. Her boots are next and she has to look away. Clarke hears her name tumble from her lips. "I don't want to put you in any more danger," she says with her blue eyes pleading.

"I am capable of taking care of myself."

"I know," Clarke sighs and takes a seat on the bed. She runs her fingertips along Niylah's jaw and brings her chin forward. Their lips brush softly. "I've already lost so many people I care about, I couldn't bear to know that you died because of me."

"Clarke," Niylah sighs.

"Thank you, for everything, but I should go," she finally says dropping her hand.

Before she leaves, the blonde grips her hand tightly. "If you ever need anything, I am here, my friend," she says firmly.

Clarke nods and gives her a small smile before squeezing her hand. "Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim," she says just above a whisper. She turns and makes her way out toward the front. She grabs her supplies, looks over her shoulder one last time thinking about how much she will miss her friend, and quietly leaves. Outside the hut she is met with a blow to the head. She staggers on her feet and falls. She groans and lifts a hand to her head, it comes away warm and coated with red. Her vision swims as a figure steps into her line of sight. "Anya?" Clarke tries to squint but it is of no use. Her vision goes black.

The former blonde slowly comes to and opens her eyes. She looks around and her eyes land on two figures talking in the corner of a darkened room. "Did you have to hit her so hard? She has been unconscious for half the day! Time we could have spent making our way towards the capital," a voice she recognizes whispers harshly. Niylah. So much for her not getting involved, Clarke sighs to herself.

"It was necessary, yes." The dark woman says completely unfazed by her actions. "She is a fighter and would have tried to fight me once she saw me."

"Or I'd have been in utter shock at the fact that you're somehow still alive," Clarke groans and lifts a hand to her head.

"No, Clarke, do not move," the blonde says sitting by her side. Careful hands draw a cool cloth over her forehead.

"What the hell did you hit me with, Anya?" Clarke asks feeling as if she had been knocked in the head with something blunt.

"A large tree branch," the General shrugs.

"Where have you been? What happened?" Clarke questioned.

"After your people shot both of us, they came for you but left me to die. I waited until they left and made it to my village where a healer with experience treating gun wounds was able to remove the bullets. I stayed there to recover before setting out for our capital, Polis. Imagine my surprise when on my way I kept hearing stories of Wanheda, the great sky warrior who brought the mountain to its knees. Even before meeting with Lexa, I knew it was you. She has tasked me with bringing you to her safely."

"Safely generally means unharmed," Clarke mutters and winces when Niylah ran the cloth over a sensitive spot. She could see the blonde glaring at Anya.

"Yes, well I was wary that you would not take too kindly to seeing me again," the woman admits. "There was no time to explain with the Azgeda warriors still searching the village."

"Believe it or not, Anya, I actually like you," Clarke sighs. "When you're not trying to kill me, that is."

"You are a strong warrior, Klark kom Skaikru. Many of my people owe you their lives and many more hail your deeds at Maun-de."

"I did what I had to," she replies softly hoping the older woman will drop the subject.

"What any good leader would do," Anya says and Clarke can tell she means it. "Niylah has told me you are a fine hunter."

"She is a good ticha," (teacher) Clarke replies with a small smile her eyes catching the blonde's.

"You are close," it isn't a question. Anya is very observant.

"We are good friends."

"Sha," Niylah responds. "Ai lukot." (Yes, my friend)

Clarke looks away and catches Anya's glare so she glares right back. She knows that Anya is probably aware of the relationship between her and Lexa, though it is nonexistent at the moment. She sighs and looks away. She will not apologize for needing the comfort of a warm body or a friend. She feels drowsy and Niylah pulls the furs up around her shoulders. "Rest, Clarke. We will leave when you are feeling better," Anya says leaving no room for argument.

She wakes up again sometime after dark. A fire is crackling in the pit causing her to warm considerably. She kicks the furs off and contemplates trying to get up. Lean bare legs swing around and she sits up. Dizziness clouds her mind and she sways momentarily before a hand steadies her. "Take it easy," Niylah warns her.

Clarke takes the hand offered to her and allows the woman to help her to the next room. The table is set with plates of food and the blonde carefully lowers her arm as she sits. "Mochof, Niylah," she says and they both know it is for more than just her help to the table as the trader nods.

Anya is already eating some of the panther meat that Clarke brought to the trader the day before. Niylah motions for her to eat as well. "So, what did the dear Commander have to say about me?" Clarke wonders.

"She said I was to bring you to her unharmed because the Ice Queen wants to kill you."

"Well, that's nothing new. A lot of Grounders I've met want to kill me. Many have tried and failed," she feels the need to jibe Anya a little for their past.

"It does not do well to linger on the past, Skai Prisa," the woman states unperturbed. "The Ice Queen is different. Their traditions are much different from the Trikru. Azgeda believes that to kill a strong enemy is to gain their power. To kill Wanheda is to command death. The Ice Queen wishes to kill you and use your power against the Commander."

"Wonderful, she sounds insane," Clarke says taking a large chunk out of her piece of panther.

"I am not sure I understand."

"Insane is to repeat your actions over and over and expecting different results when it has been proven it will not occur," the hunter explains.

"She has attempted to kill Heda many times and been unsuccessful, so yes, I would say she is insane," Anya says in agreement.

"Great, so an insane Queen is after me."

"And every warrior in Azgeda and every bounty hunter of every clan. There are many of my people looking for you."

"We will leave in the morning," Clarke announces giving it little thought.

"You are not well enough to travel," Anya points out.

"And whose fault is that?" she snaps at the General. "We have already endangered Niylah by being here. I will not allow harm to come to her because you decided it was a good idea to bash my head in."

"Fine, but you will explain it to the Commander if you are injured further," Anya says pointedly.

"I owe the Commander nothing," Clarke says rising from the table before Anya can tell her otherwise. She disappears to the back knowing the older woman is following her.

"You owe her your life!"

"She abandoned me! She left my people to die in that mountain! She left me to die!"

"And yet here you stand."

"No thanks to her! I killed nearly four hundred people. Women and children, people who helped us," she feels bile rise in her throat and forces it back down. "I killed them all!"

"You did what was necessary. You took out the enemy."

"I don't feel like that's what I did," her chest hurt and she rubbed at it. "Many of those people were innocent. I am a monster, nothing more, nothing less," she states solemnly.

"None of them were innocent, not even the children," Anya states. "Those children would have continued their people's traditions of reaping our people."

"You don't know that!" Clarke shouts her voice hoarse and filled with pain. Her arms shake at her side. Anya steps forward and she steps back. "No, leave me alone," she says turning away from the older woman not wanting the warrior to see her tears.

Another presence enters the room and Clarke is unsurprised by the calm but firm voice. "You will sleep in the other room," Niylah says to the woman who huffs but leaves. "Clarke?" the blonde's warm hand surrounds the fist the hunter made and unfolds it. "Clarke?" she tries again.

The hunter feels the sting when the air hits the nail marks she's left on her own skin. She hadn't realized she held the fist so tightly. Niylah takes care of the small scratches. She can see the questions in her eyes and shakes her head. "Please," she can't and the blonde seems to understand because she doesn't press the issue.

They lay down side by side and stare up at the ceiling. Clarke's mind refuses to shut down. "She did what she needed to do for her people, as did you," Niylah says softly. "You must forgive yourself."

Clarke turns her head to look at the blonde. "I don't know how," she sighs feeling the tears fall. "I've killed so many people, Niylah, and yes, some are dead because I had no choice. While others are dead because of my choices. Whether I held the knife or gun, they are dead because of me," she hiccups and turns away from the blonde.

"You have also saved people, Clarke," she forces her to turn her face back meeting brown eyes. "Thousands of my people are alive because of you. Your people are alive because of you. I know your decisions came at a price but you are a hero. One day, my people and yours will write great stories and songs about."

"I do not deserve forgiveness for what I've done," she says barely audible advertise her eyes.

"If not you, Clarke, then who?" Niylah asks. "I know of only one other soul that is as selfless as you. Your people come first, the wellbeing of those you care for. You deserve forgiveness, Clarke."

Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim – may we meet again


	5. Chapter 5

Clarke spins in place, the forest is ashen and devoid of any life as if an artist forgot to color and shade in the drawing. There is a light off to her right and she decides to walk in that direction. She realizes, when she enters a clearing with large tree trunks stripped of their branches with ropes tied around the trunks that this is an execution; a Grounder execution. She feels something scratch at her wrists and looks down. There is rope tied around her wrists connected to her waist and feet. It's her execution.

She looks back up when she hears her name being called. "Clarke of the Sky People, Klark kom Skaikru (of the Sky People), Skai Prisa (Sky Princess), Wanheda, Commander of death you are hereby sentenced to death by a thousand cuts for treason against the Commander and murders of Jake kom Skaikru, Atom kom Skaikru, Fin kom Skaikru, Wells kom Skaikru, Reivon (Raven) kom Skaikru, Linkin kom Trikru (of the Tree People), Oktevia (Octavia) kom Trikru, Niylah kom Trikru, Onya kom Trikru, the villagers of Tondisi, and the maunon (Mountain Men). What say you, Wanheda?" a bald man in a gravelly voice asks.

"No, no, that's not right." She shakes her head. "Anya, Niylah, Lincoln, Raven, and Octavia are not dead!"

"But they will be," Lexa's hardened and angry voice states as she points. The blonde's gaze follows the finger and it's like a light turns on above each tree. There are all her friends tied up exactly as she is. "Their blood is on your hands, Clarke. Natrona! Frag emo op!" (Traitors, kill them all) Screams fill her ears as she watches each of her friends die.

The first cut slices along her pale cheek leaving a trickle of blood to run down her jaw and neck. Clarke hisses but knows it's nothing compared to what is coming. The next, splits the skin across her abdomen. She screams. Cut after cut the vindicated continue to slice at her. Her voice is hoarse and clothes shredded to pieces. Blood soaks her body. The Commander stands in front of her bearing her teeth in a snarl as she adjusts her sword. The blonde can feel it against her skin piercing the flesh slightly. Lexa pushes the tip in as Clarke looks up at her. "Please!" she cries. But the brunette growls and pushes the blade in further. Clarke screams once more.

"Clarke!" She is shaken gently and nearly knocks her companion on the floor when she sits up.

"No!" Her eyes search the room and it takes her a minute to realize where she is. Tears are streaming down her face, her breathing is ragged, and her heart racing. She looks to her side and grips Niylah's arm to steady her. "Sorry," she sighs.

"It is alright," the blonde pulls the hunter to her. Clarke lets her and takes comfort in the embrace. She is always taking care of her. She has showed her how to hunt and track; how to tell which plants would be useful, and has gone out of her way several times to ensure her safety. The arms around her are strong and warm and she allows herself this brief moment of peace.

She pulls back slightly. "Thank you," she says and they lay back down.

"What troubles you?" Niylah asks.

For once, Clarke feels the need to tell someone and not hold it in. "A dream," she sighs. "Where I have to watch everyone who means anything to me die by the Commander's hand. You included," she swallows hard.

"I am right here," Niylah says turning her face.

"You always are, ai lukot (my friend)," Clarke replies with a soft sigh. Niylah hums a tune that seems to not only soothe the hunter but puts her to sleep as well.

The former blonde wakes when the sun's rays peak through the curtain covering the window. Niylah is already up preparing breakfast, something that Clarke can tell by the smell wafting to her nose. She rises and finds the woman making an herbal drink. "Taste this," she says handing it to her.

Clarke sniffs it finding the aroma to be pleasantly sweet and flowery. "What is it?" she asks sipping it.

"It is a mixture that in high quantity will make you sleep. I can make rations for you, if you would like," the woman offers.

"That would be nice," Clarke agrees and watches as she places the mixture of herbs into several pouches. "What would I do without you?" she smirks.

"Die of starvation," Niylah replies and laughs at her own joke.

The former blonde also laughs. "Yes, you are probably right about that," she agrees.

"I am simply providing you a way to get adequate rest. You need it until the terrors are under control."

Clark nods and takes a seat at the table. She wonders silently if perhaps Niylah's feelings for her run much deeper than her own for the blonde. She does not wish to hurt her but the hunter's heart belongs to someone else, someone she does not believe deserves it, but nonetheless. She wonders if she should say anything or if that would make it worse. "Niylah," she says softly causing the woman to look up at her and smile. "You know I care for you."

"Clarke, if this is about what happened it is alright. I understand. You were hurting and you needed comfort. We are friends, nothing more," she says with a smile on her face. "I am happy you are comfortable with me."

Clarke watches her and tries to read her expression but realizes the woman is not hiding anything from her. She means what she says and the hunter feels relief. "Yes, I am. I was worried that I lead you to believe we could be more and I do not want to hurt you."

"I know, you are very considerate. I was lonely as well, so it was mutually beneficial," she admits.

"Oh good, you are awake," Anya says snatching some dried meat. "We must leave soon if we are to make it to Polis before nightfall."

"Yes, master Anya," Clarke smirks.

"Do not toy with me Sky Girl," the dark woman says warningly.

"Then, who shall I annoy with my charming wit?" she smirks.

Anya rolls her eyes. "You are insufferable."

Niylah sends them on their way with enough supplies in case they have to stop and stay somewhere for the night. "Be safe," the blonde says as they leave.

"You as well, ai lukot," Clarke says and takes her arm as Niylah clasps hers in the traditional Grounder goodbye.

"May we meet again," she says as final parting words and Clarke smiles repeating the saying in trigedasleng.

Anya has managed to get them horses, how Clarke isn't sure but she isn't going to complain if she doesn't have to walk the whole way to Polis. "You have become well versed in our language," Anya states as they leave the village behind.

"Niylah thought it would help."

"She has taught you much."

Clarke nods in agreement. "She has taught me how to survive. She was a friend when I had none and even when I did not deserve one."

"You have a strong bond with her. I am surprised that she is so taken with you. She is normally extraordinarily blunt."

"Oh, you misunderstand the ease with which we get along now," Clarke laughs. "She is still blunt and willing to give me a lesson when I need one. She has saved me countless times from many dangers and has knocked me on my ass just as many times."

"She taught you to fight?"

"A little, she isn't a fighter so she only taught me some basics. Her skill lies in her trade though she would have made a fine healer as well."

"Yes, she would have but it is tradition to carry on the occupation of our parents. That is why she is a trader."

"It is similar for us on the Ark. It was not always but with the need to minimize and control the population it was one of the easiest ways to ensure everyone had a job and the Ark ran smoothly."

"You were to follow in your mother's path?"

"I was training to become a doctor when they locked me in solitary confinement."

"What is solitary confinement? Is that when you are locked away by yourself?"

"It is and you are not allowed human contact."

"How long were you a prisoner?"

"Seven months, I spent all of that time in solitary up until an hour before I was put on the dropship, but I was drugged for that so I guess that doesn't really count either," Clarke sighs.

"You were a criminal," it comes out harsh and judgmental.

The former blonde bristles at the accusation and glares at her traveling companion. "No, actually I wasn't. My father was head engineer and found out that the Ark could no longer support our population and that it was only a matter of time before we ran out of air. He wanted to go public. My mother was on the council and told the Chancellor. She hoped he would talk my dad out of it, he killed him instead. I watched him get floated out to space. And then they had me locked up for good measure because I knew the truth," she explains and kicks her heels urging the horse on faster. She ducks under branches and moves with the animal until she pulls it to a stop by a stream. Anya rides up a few seconds later and ties both horses to the tree. "My mother killed my father," Clarke says angrily. "And she let me believe that it was my best friend's fault. That he told his father and I wasted almost a year hating him. I hate her," she yells.

"You seem to hate many people."

"Most are deserving of it," Clarke sneers and drops to the muddy bank.

"Dwelling on the past helps no one, least of all you. Let it go," Anya suggests handing her a bag of berries. Clarke scoffs and refuses the food. She isn't hungry.

Clarke looks up suddenly hearing branches break and her eyes dart around. Anya is also on alert. "We must go," she says. "Your little tantrum just cost us greatly."

"What about the horses?"

"Leave them," Anya instructs and throws her a pack. She leads them through the stream and to the thick cover on the other side where they hide. Three warriors with white war paint search their camp and kills their horses. "Azgeda," Anya mutters. "They followed us."

"Niylah," Clarke gasps and Anya covers her mouth.

"Quiet," she says by her ear. "Niylah will be fine." Clarke glares at her but the older woman ignores her. "They will wait to see if we come back. We should follow the stream to the river."

"Won't they do the same?" Clarke asked quietly.

"Possibly, they may also take the trail. Step where I step," the General orders her and they navigate along the stream.

Clarke is careful to follow Anya's every move until she sees more warriors up ahead. She yanks her back into cover and points them out. There are three of them scouting ahead. "I can distract them while you take them out."

"That could work," Anya agrees and hands her a knife. "Here, protect yourself."

Clarke takes the knife and tests its weight in her hands. It is light and sharp. Anya leaves her and circles around the clearing where the warriors are. She takes a deep breath and starts walking towards them making sure they can hear her. Her steps are loud and branches crack beneath her feet. One of the warriors looks up recognition colors his gaze. "Look, Wanheda comes to us," he says pointing a sword her way.

"I heard you're looking for me. Well, you wanted Wanheda, here I am," she says with a growl as she charges forward.

The three warriors are surprised at her actions and hesitate. That hesitation costs two of them their lives as Anya swiftly kills one before a brief fight with the next closest one that ends in his death. Unfortunately, the third has woken up now and is descending on the General. His reflexes are better and well matched to Anya's. Clarke watches as they engage in combat her eyes entranced by the way the metal of their swords slide together and make sparks. It is the sharp cry of pain that alerts her. Anya is doubled over clutching her side and before Clarke knows what she is doing she's charging at the last warrior.

Her body collides with his, her shoulder ramming his back. He lands on his knees and her momentum carries her over his back and into the stream. The red bleeds from her hair leaving it almost completely golden again. He is on her in seconds hands around her throat and sitting on her stomach. He pushes her head under the water and she struggles briefly. Her body goes limp under him and she knows he thinks he's won; that she is dead or at least subdued for the time being. She waits until her lungs burn and he is starting to sit up. She grips the knife in her hand and surges forward plunging it into his chest. He looks at her with a mix of shock and anger and then down at his chest. It takes a second but he grips the pummel and yanks it out. Blood spurts through the air between them and lands on Clarke's face. She pushes him off her and into the water. The blonde is still breathing heavily as she tries to rub away the tenderness in her neck. Then, she remembers the General laying a few feet away from her.

She pries the knife from the warrior's death grip and scrambles to her feet over to Anya. She is panting and holding her side. Clarke kneels next to her. "Let me see," she says softly and pulls bloodied hands away from Anya's abdomen. The blade sliced through her leather armor and the wound is still bleeding. Clarke looks around and spots a cave. She will need to take the General there for the time being. "We need to get you somewhere safe," the blonde helps her up. "Keep pressure on that," she instructs wrapping her arm around a slim waist. Anya immediately understands that the blonde is trying to help her and allows Clarke to support her as they hobble to the cave she spotted.

At the mouth of the cave she leans Anya on the rock wall. Her eyes flick toward the mouth of the cave and back to the older woman. "Go, I am fine."

"You're not, but I need to make sure the cave is clear," she replies and leaves the woman resting against the stone. She is relieved to find the structure empty even though it is not as big as she would have liked and goes back out for Anya. She helps her inside. "Keep holding pressure on your side. I'm going back for the supplies we left."

"No! It is too dangerous!"

Clarke turns to the woman with an undercurrent of rage flashing in her eyes. She will not be responsible for another death. "You will die without proper bandages! We need a fire and blankets and food," she says harshly. "I can handle myself."

Anya eyes her curiously and nods. "Indeed you can, Wanheda."

"Do not call me that!" the blonde snaps and stalks out of the cave. It takes her longer than she would like to get back to where their horses are tied and their supplies lay on the ground. No one is to be seen so she stealthily makes her way back to their camp. She checks the packs and satisfied she has everything she needs hikes back to the cave. When she arrives, Anya is slumped over her hands have strayed. She is pale and feverish and Clarke knows she needs to get the wound cleaned quickly.

She cuts more of the leather and fabric around the wound so none of it impedes her from cleaning it. She pours water from the canteen over the gash and placed a hand on Anya's sternum as she moans and struggles unconsciously aware of the pain. She bandages the wound and ties it off tightly. The first thing she notices though is that the wound will not stop bleeding and if she can't get it to stop soon, Anya will die. Clarke searches her supplies for the vials Niylah packed for her. She looks for the liquid that is slightly yellowish and uncorks it. She forces Anya's mouth open and places the vial to her lips. She knows it will taste horrid but it is necessary to stop the bleeding. The woman coughs and spits some of it out. "Drink it," Clarke says softly.

"No," the woman moves to slap it from her hand but the blonde's reflexes are far superior at the moment.

"You must, it will stop the bleeding," Clarke says and holds it to her lips. Anya allows it to flow down her theist and almost gags. "I know, it's awful, but it will help. Rest now." She covers the woman with the warmest fur blanket they have before going in search of fire wood.

She builds a small fire in the center of the cave just a few feet from the injured woman. The heat should reflect off the wall and warm the woman hopefully breaking her fever. She then, sets out to find as many large rocks she can find and carefully situates them in front of the cave to provide some cover. Clarke notices that she is still soaked from the adventure in the water earlier and peels the wet clothes from her skin setting them out to dry. She sits in her undergarments next to the fire to warm herself.

Clarke removes some of the bandages to check the wound every so often. After a few hours, it finally stops weeping but Anya is still burning with fever. The blonde rummages through her pack again finding the poultice Niylah showed her how to make to draw the poison from any wound and smears it over the gash in the General's side hoping that it works.


	6. Chapter 6

It is two whole days before Anya wakes, confused and groggy. Clarke has been keeping watch over the woman closely monitoring her condition as her body fights off the fever. She is tired but wakes at the slightest movement or sound so she hasn't gotten much rest. "You look horrible," Anya mutters and winces as she tries to sit up.

Clarke rolls her eyes. "Someone had to make sure you didn't die," she says sharply and stops the woman from sitting completely upright. "You need to rest."

"How much time have we lost?"

"Tu sintaim," (two days) Clarke replies easily.

"Yu souda bants." (You must leave)

"I am not leaving without you," she states simply and starts moving to inspect Anya's wounds.

"You must!" Anya pushes her hands away and glares.

"No!" Clarke dodges the appendages and ignores the woman. She is crazy if she thinks the blonde will leave her. "I didn't leave Lexa when the pauna (gorilla) attacked us, I will not leave you either."

"You faced a pauna with the Commander?" the Grounder's voice was full of shock.

"That is what you took from that?" Clarke shook her head.

"The pauna is a very strong and foul beast that strikes fear in the heart of even our most seasoned warriors. That you stood up to it tells me you are either very foolish or very brave."

"I couldn't leave her to die," Clarke sighs after the admission and runs her hungers through her dirty hair. She will be glad when they reach the capital and she can wash it.

"Why?" the General tilts her head trying to understand.

"My people needed her," Clarke says softly even though she knows it's more than that and by the look on Anya's face she also knows. The blonde's thoughts return to that night.

 _They are running through the dense forest, branches smacking her face. "We need to hide," Lexa yells as she takes a breath._

 _Clarke is close behind her and turns to see the trees swaying under the pauna's weight. She remembers seeing a grate in this direction that might provide them some cover or at the very least help to lead them further away from the fearsome beast. Her eyes land on it. "This way, I found something," her fingers grip the grungy metal and she heaves. It rolls aside scraping the tunnel's edge. She checks to make sure Lexa is following her before slipping through. She sees light immediately and as they approach the other side her stomach drops._

 _Bodies and animal carcasses are everywhere. Bones crunch under their feet. "What is this place?" she wonders out loud but even as she does she realizes what it is._

 _"It's their feeding ground," Lexa replies._

 _Clarke feels a shudder pass through her. A loud roar brings her back to the present. They have to move and fast or they'll be sitting ducks ripe for the picking. The blonde's eyes trail up the rough ledge and she turns to start climbing. "Let's go!"_

 _She looks back once to make sure Lexa is following and pulls herself over the first ledge. A large deer-like creature is staring at her, its body torn in half. The smell is horrid. Clarke feels bile in her throat but pushes it down. The beast roars again and both Lexa and her guard pull their swords. The blonde holds her gun at her side and they wait. The trees move to the side giving away its position but none of them are prepared when it jumps out of the vegetation and lands on the guard. The large creature is pounding his flesh and then throws his limp body against the concrete wall. The pauna pounds its chest in a show of aggression._

 _The guard's screams still echo in her ears and she raises her arm. She pulls the trigger hitting the beast in the neck. It rears back throwing a skeleton at her. They both duck. Clarke takes aim and fires at the large creature until it falls to the lower ledge. Her breath is coming out in short harsh gasps. They both lean over to look down and jump back as the pauna roars and its arm reaches for them. "Come on!" Clarke grabs Lexa's wrist and yanks her toward the stairs. "Run!"_

 _The beast roars angrily and Clarke navigates the concrete structure looking for a way out. She skids to a stop when they reach a railing and looks down. It's a pretty far jump but she vaults over the railing anyway. Her knees crumple and her hands stretch out to catch her body. Clarke moves hoping Lexa is soon to follow. A door catches her eye and then the sound of her companion falling and crying out in pain makes her pause. She looks back and doesn't even blink an eye before going back and pulling the other girl up. They hobble to the door and the blonde hears the creature land with a thud and roar causing her heart to pound in her chest faster than it already was._

 _Clarke slides through the door and turns back to see the Commander trip and fall. She grabs Lexa's good arm just as the beast grabs her ankle. "Ahh!" Green eyes meet hers and she sees, not the Commander, but a girl. Lexa is not much older than she is and in her eyes she sees fear. "Leave me!" Lexa cries._

 _Clarke reaches for the gun. "No way!" she says taking aim as Lexa screams again. She won't leave the Commander to die. They've been through so much already and the blonde feels like she's the only person who understands her or her decisions she's had to make and has yet to make. She won't lose that. She tells herself it's for her people's sake and shoots. She empties the clip and the pauna lets go of Lexa. She flies through the door and into Clarke. The blonde catches her and kicks the metal rod holding up the door. The beast roars but for now they are safe._

 _She helps the Commander through the next door. The other girl is clearly in pain. Clarke looks around and notices her mistake. They are trapped. She sets the Commander down carefully and the brunette cries sharply. "Give me your sword," Clarke says realizing that the door will not hold by itself. She shoves it through the handles effectively locking them inside._

 _Both of them are breathing heavily and Clarke sees the brunette struggle to sit up. She winces and the blonde lands on her knees next to her. She stops her. "I'm fine," Lexa says through a pained expression._

 _Clarke ignores her and takes her jacket off. She has an extra shirt on and it should provide a good sling if done properly. She rips a piece off and then tests the length before setting Lexa's arm in the makeshift sling. "Hold this here," the blonde moves Lexa's good arm and forced her hand to support the sling. Clarke moves to tie the sleeves over her shoulder._

 _"You should have left me behind," Lexa looks at her briefly and Clarke can tell the girl is back in Commander mode. She wonders, not for the first time, how exhausting it is. "Now two will die here instead of one," the girl's voice lowers in sadness._

 _The blonde ties the last piece a little tighter than necessary causing the brunette to flinch. Good, Clarke thinks to herself. "I'm still new to your culture," she says as she walks away. "But when someone saves your life, my people say thank you." Her voice is calm and hides the slight anger she feels._

 _She looks around the bars of the cage she had locked them in and sighs. "I'm serious, Clarke." The blonde ignores her and wraps her fingers around the bars and tries to move them. They're solid. "To lead well, you must make hard choices."_

 _She can't explain why she is angry but when she turns to face the Commander again her anger rises. "Hard choices?" she points to herself. "You're telling me that?" she is amazed at the audacity of her words. She killed Finn to make this alliance._

 _"I have seen your strength. It is true but now you waver. You couldn't kill Quint, you couldn't leave me to die," her tone is almost accusatory and leaves Clarke confused. "That was weakness."_

 _Her anger simmers just under the surface. "I thought love was weakness," she states harshly and turns away. For whatever reason she can no longer look into the striking green eyes before her._

 _"Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, Clarke," Lexa chides._

 _Clarke turns feeling her anger boil over. She strides up to the other girl. "You want to know why I saved you? Because I need you, God forbid one of your generals becomes Commander. You may be heartless, Lexa," Clarke says just inches from her face. She can see the slight glimmer in green eyes and knows she struck a nerve. "But at least you're smart."_

 _Lexa slowly smiled. "Don't worry, my spirit will choose much more wisely than that."_

 _Confusion replaces her anger. "Your spirit?"_

 _"When I die, my spirit will find the next Commander," she explained._

 _"Reincarnation," Clarke mumbles realizing what she is describing. "That's how you became Commander?"_

 _"How are your leaders chosen?" Lexa asks._

 _The pauna bangs on the door and it rattles against the sword. The blonde almost forgot about it. The door won't hold much longer. "It found us."_

 _"Don't be afraid, Clarke," the blonde looks at her incredulously. "Death is not the end."_

 _"We are not dying in here! I need your spirit to stay where it is!" she says firmly though she is unsure exactly why she said it._

 _"Then, get ready to fight," Lexa warns pulling a knife. "It's coming in."_

 _Clarke shakes her head. That's it! "Maybe we let it in," she says and runs forward. "Come here!" She waits for the brunette and then looks at the bent sword. "Now!" she lifts the sword and the pauna stumbles through slamming into the opposite wall. "Go!" she pushes Lexa out the door and once they're both out she slams the large metal bar down over the door. Thankfully it holds._

Clarke remembers hiking through the rough terrain back towards TonDC and the night they spent by the fire. Lexa watched over her insisting that she rest. The blonde hadn't realized how tired she was. When the pauna's roars had jolted her awake, Lexa told her she was safe and Clarke had believed her. Her thoughts are interrupted by the General shifting slightly. The blonde moves to help her and sighs when the older woman pulls away. "You are lying to me and to yourself, Klark kom Skaikru (Clarke of the Sky People). You did not save her because your people needed her," Clarke opens her mouth but Anya holds up her hand. "While it may be true that your people needed her, yu kep kiln em kos yu gaf em in (you saved her because _you_ need her)."


End file.
